Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
His lips tug into a different kind of grin, and I’m sure I see a hint of surprise in his hazel eyes.
“Yeah, I know a little about engines, tough guy. I can also vote and own property, too.”
His gaze darkens, and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Never said you didn’t, sweetheart.”
I let out a low growl at his use of sweetheart. I don’t know this guy from Adam and despite his good looks, his attitude is already pissing me off. “You know what?”
Another man appears beside him who looks like his brother. “You the driver who called Ace Motors?”
“I am,” I confirm and repeat my suspicions about the electronic panel to the other man.
He nods. “All right, we’ll need to get the rig inside and up on a machine, right, Diesel?”
The brown-haired man, Diesel, nods before his gaze slides to mine, and his lips curl into an amused grin. “Yep. Just slide it into bay number four. If you can manage it.” I don’t respond to his teasing tone.
“Yeah, okay. Number four,” I say under my breath and climb back into the cab, sweet-talking her to bay number four and rewarding her with a gentle touch when she makes it without more problems.
Diesel is there waiting for me when I exit the truck once again. “Want to look under the hood with me, sweetheart?”
My gaze narrows, and he laughs. “Of course I do. It’s my truck.” I roll my eyes and march around him to raise the hood.
“What happened before the lights came on and the rough idle?”
“Nothing. I just dropped a trailer over at the MDP Distribution center off of Hole, got back onto the 710 into that godawful traffic, and it started spittin’ and sputtering. That’s when I called you guys. Can you fix it? ”
“I can fuckin’ fix anything. You gonna stand here and bug me or let me look at it, sweetheart?” he barks at me.
“Cassidy,” I snarl. “My name is Cassidy. Not Sweetheart.”
He laughs again, shaking his head. “Okay, Cassidy. Give me something to go on or get the hell out of my way.”
“Have you ever fixed a truck before?”
His gaze slides to me, brows shooting up in surprise. “Have you?”
“Yes. But this isn’t my area so I don’t have my tools. Can you help me or not?”
“Oh,” he drawls. “So you do want my help?”
I growl. “Just let me know what else you find,” I bite back and walk away, crossing the expansive parking lot to check in with my folks. Though I’m twenty-five years old, I’m a full-time truck driver, so I stay with my parents on the rare occasions when I’m home in Riverbend, Nevada. In my childhood bedroom. It sounds weird to still live with my parents, but it’s better than spending my hard-earned cash on an apartment I sleep in for three or four nights a month.
“Cass, how was the trip?” I smile at my dad’s boisterous voice. He’s so proud that I followed in his footsteps, and he always asks about my trips like I’ve been on an adventure rather than a long-haul trek.
“Good,” I answer honestly. “No congestion and no accidents, which means even with the engine trouble, I made it an hour early.”
“Of course you did. You learned from the best.”
I laugh at his joke that never gets old. “I did. Anyway, it started limpin’, so I’m in Angel Harbor having it looked at right now.”
“See if they can repair it enough to get you home, and I’ll have a look at it for you.”
“I appreciate that, Dad, but I hope to get another load out of California. Go back east for a bit.”
“You work too hard,” he says as if he didn’t work just as much as I do now when he was my age.
“So did you,” I shoot back. “I know because I was there.” I was his co-pilot for more trips than I can count, but it’s what gave me my love of the open road, of seeing new places and experiencing new things.
“Yeah, you got me there, baby girl. Keep me updated on your repairs, will ya?”
I nod even though he can’t see me. “Of course I will, Dad. Give Mom my love,” I tell him before ending the call and heading back inside to the beautiful, arrogant jerk. “Well, any news?”
“It’s the ECU,” he confirms with a smirk. “That’s the good news.”
A chill runs down my spine, and I cross my arms over my chest. “And the bad news?”
“It’ll take a few days to get the one you need for this model.”
I frown in disbelief. “And you know this model?”
He shrugs. “It’s a fucking Kenworth. Don’t know a damn thing about it,” he deadpans. “Wanna quiz me on it?”
Yeah. “Obviously not,” I growl at him.
He laughs. “Look, lady,” he begins, raking a hand through his coffee-brown locks.